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‘Hey!’ someone called.
Manners’ hand tightened on my hip but we didn’t stop.
My pulse was racing. I didn’t want to spend the night in the Connection jail, and I really didn’t want to get any part of my mind wiped. I didn’t even want to know what they’d do if they found out I’d controlled a troll with my piping powers. Panic raced in my veins, and flight or fight was kicking in big time. When you’re in danger you can fight, take flight, freeze or frolic. It was lucky the latter wasn’t the strongest impulse and I didn’t break down into my best dance routine.
‘Hey, you two!’ someone shouted again. ‘Stop and turn slowly.’
I could almost feel Manners running through the options. I wanted to run but he slowly turned us around as requested. I saw his hand move to the small of his back, where no doubt a weapon rested. I guess his reflex had settled on fight.
The detective approached us. Noting the triangles on our foreheads, he knew we were Other. ‘What are you doing here?’ he scowled.
Fighting would get messy very quickly. He was only one detective, but there were another ten a few feet behind him. Even Manners couldn’t kick that many asses in one night. So because I looked like a hooker… ‘Earning a living, honey,’ I replied, giving him a wink. ‘This one is real feisty, but maybe you could wait five minutes until we’re done.’
Manners smacked me hard on my ass, making me gasp. ‘It’s going to take more than five minutes, love,’ he promised with a leer.
I gave an inane giggle. ‘Perfect,’ I sassed back. ‘I charge on a time-spent basis.’
He pulled me into his body. ‘Then send me a damned big bill,’ he breathed. ‘I’m having you all night.’
His lips crashed down on mine and my brain fizzled and died. I could feel every hard line of his body. I opened my mouth to his assault and, unbidden, gave a loud moan. My pulse started to race as he kissed me harder, deeper, with a need and a passion I would never have expected to be lurking beneath his controlled, military façade.
‘Bloody hell,’ the Connection detective swore. ‘Just not here. Move along.’
I pulled away reluctantly from Manners and looked up at him, eyes dazed and legs wobbly. I hoped he could tell he’d robbed me of speech and it was on him to answer.
‘Sure thing, officer.’ His voice was rough and gravelly. He looped his arm around me again and we strolled away.
It was a long time before we spoke. We walked to the nearest train station – it was late, but we’d make the last train out. Bastion would have to fend for himself. I guessed that in a worst-case scenario the guy would just fly.
Greg’s arm was still around me and I wasn’t in a hurry to remove it for a number of reasons, not least of which was because it was cold as a witch’s tit and he was extraordinarily warm. And I suddenly realised that I was thinking of him as Greg, not Manners; a man, rather than my second. That was a complication I wasn’t ready for. I’d been studiously trying to ignore how sexy he was for weeks, and now he’d kissed me, and all my pretence that he was just like family had gone out of the window.
We got our tickets and waited five minutes for the next tube. We stayed on the underground for half an hour before making our way to Marylebone station, where we could get a train overland to Beaconsfield. From there, we could get the pack to pick us up or we could wolf it and run together. Esme was in favour of the second option. Her preferred next action was mating with Greg.
He wants you too,she pointed out.
Now is not the time to get laid,I said firmly.
Why on earth would you want to get laid?she asked in genuine confusion.You’re not an egg.
That made me laugh out loud. Greg looked at me questioningly but I shook my head. I wasnotgoing to explain that one.
Greg and I still hadn’t spoken, but as we boarded the train I noticed a group of relatively young guys casting me leering looks. I glared back. I was entitled to have my legs out and not be pawed or molested. So my dress might be a bit slutty, but I wasn’t sending out an invitation or any ‘come and get me’ vibes. The glare should have cemented that, but some men don’t know how to take a hint
They sat on the train in the next set of seats to Greg and me. The feminist part of me wanted to ignore them or give them a firm lecture; the tired part of me just wanted a quiet journey. The tired part won. I turned my body into Greg’s and slung my legs over his lap. He instantly placed a warm hand on my thigh and sent a possessive and quelling glare to the guys. They did some elbow shoving amongst themselves but turned their attention away from us. I relaxed; I wasn’t in the mood to be harassed.
The adrenalin was going, leaving me cold and shocky. I’d watched an horrendous battle and I’d seen someone die, albeit a vampyr, but his undead life had certainly ended. He was now just dead. It had been messy and horrific, and I’d probably have nightmares. Then I’d taken control of a troll against his will, which didn’t fill me with the warm and fuzzies, and I’d released a raging unicorn on the world before neatly walking smack dab into a Connection raid, which could have seen us arrested or mind wiped. Not to mention that I was operating on a scant few hours’ sleep. I’d felt rejuvenated when I woke up after my four hours, but now it was taking its toll.
I let my head drop on Greg’s shoulder. I’d just rest my eyes for a moment.
‘Sweetheart, wake up,’ Greg murmured, giving my shoulder a gentle shake. ‘We’re at the station.’
I blinked, automatically checked my mouth for drool and was pleased when there was none. I rubbed at my gritty eyes and winced when my fingers came away black. ‘Shit. Do I have panda eyes?’ I asked plaintively.
He grinned. ‘It’s not so bad. I bet some women do it on purpose – smoky eyes.’
I caught sight of my reflection in the train’s window and grimaced. I was a state, but there was little point in doing damage control now.
The train’s brakes let out an ear-splitting screech as it slowed to a stop. Greg and I waited for the button on the door to light up then pushed it. Knowing we were leaving, the boys in the carriage threw out a few choice comments about my dress and potential profession.
